


Loneliest Archer, The

by AmazonX



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Bad Fic, Holidays, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Relationship(s), Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-02-14
Updated: 2003-02-14
Packaged: 2018-11-20 05:21:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11329401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmazonX/pseuds/AmazonX
Summary: Eros, god of love and desire finds his true love, but his arrows don't work on himself.  And his true love doesn't believe in love.





	Loneliest Archer, The

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

The Loneliest Archer

### The Loneliest Archer

#### by Amazon X

Title: The Loneliest Archer 

Author: Amazon X 

E-mail: 

Website: http://Yankeestarbuck.tripod.com 

Feedback: If you don't, well, Eros is watching. 

Category: slash, holiday-fic, myth-fic, romance 

Rating: NC-17 (did you need to ask?) for m/m sexual situations 

Summary: Eros, god of love and desire finds his true love, but his arrows don't work on himself. And his true love doesn't believe in love. 

Archive: Anywhere, just ask and tell me where it's going. 

Disclaimer: Not mine, not Eros, not Ares, not none of them. Not getting any money either. So, just read and enjoy! 

Notes: This was inspired by a lovely picture made by Mrs. Fish, which you can view as my cover art here. This is dedicated to her for giving me my perfect object of desire! Thank you! I'm taking generous liberties with the history of Eros (Cupid), but trying to maintain one of his origins as close as possible. Most of the online research I did produced the same minimal information about him, so I just decided to make up a few things. And guess what...Bertie, Ursula, I may be actually getting schmoopy. It's all your fault! Thank you Daydee Woah-my for the title. 

OK, there is no Consortium, this is circa "Sleepless", but M&S are separated for other reasons. And I'm playing fast and loose with the order of episodes. Same sex couples aren't as taboo here as they are IRL and I take great liberties with Eros' mythology. Please try to believe. Thanks! 

* * *

**OVER NORTH AMERICA**   
**SPRINGTIME**

I awake floating above North America, looking down at all the people. Yes, springtime, my time to stretch my wings and fly about. Why they put a Catholic holiday attached to me in the winter, I'll never understand. Spring is my season. Rebirth, growth and romance are what I live for. 

I swoop down to see people walking along, just going about their days, and I know this is where I'll be needed most. I look down and see all the people who need me. I can see them, into their hearts, into their souls, and I know who wants to love and who doesn't deserve it. They find love without me, of course, they just don't get the strong, long-lasting love without my assistance. There's always something wrong with those relationships. 

Too bad I can't do for myself. You see, my arrows are two-fold. They have to find two people. They could be anybody, really. I don't discriminate against sexes. If two men love each other, or two women, that is as encouraged as a man and a woman. That's preferred, actually. I am Greek, after all. 

I've loved many people, well, had many lovers, I should say. I've never had a true love. I'm not a blushing maiden, nor am I a debauched rogue, but I have never found someone whom I want to spend my life with, doing things other than what I do. I don't even have a true human form, though some think I'm a chubby baby, swathed in a diaper with golden curls and blue eyes. I don't know what I look like, though a priestess of Delphi deemed me "too beautiful to be accurately described by words." This was before I made love to her. Afterward, she was beyond comprehensible speech. 

I am but a lonely archer, bringing love, passion and romance to the masses. Alas, none for me. 

Washington, D.C., the center of politics of the United States, is where I find myself. I love early April in this city, the cherry blossoms are starting to bloom, and their sweet fragrant petals float over the lovers who sit on the benches around the monuments, like a shower of pure love. There are two people there, as I float here watching, who are talking and sharing lunch. The petite redhead is so...something, so...reserved. She doesn't want him to see what's in her heart. And he won't tell her how he feels, since bringing her into his heart would mean to lose her. So he thinks. 

He has lost everyone he loves, his sister, his father, his mother. She has lost her father and a sister. I can't give them back those whom they've lost, I can only give them each other. Reaching into the quiver, I grab an arrow and draw it back in the string. I have amazing aim. The arrow flies and splits, as it should, and two streaks of light fly with total accuracy into the hearts of those federal agents. Both look stunned a moment, then they take a good look at each other. I wish I were twins so I could high five myself. 

I land in one of the blossoming cherry trees and just watch them, watch their hands meet, watch their eyes lock on and watch that first kiss. It's magical, it's mystical, I may break out in a Lennon-McCartney song. Hands have taken hold of each other and I just know that this will be one of the ones that last. If they pay attention. These two belong together. I'm so enthralled by their kissing that I don't see the big man who interrupts them. 

He's startled them. Oh, they're blushing and pulling away...no, please, they were so happy together. The way he whispered "Dana" in her ear. He let her use his first name, which I think is as adorable as first names come. "Fox" sounded so perfect coming from her mouth. But he isn't yelling at them. He's blushing. He looks up...oh my heavens! 

Gods on Olympus, he's beautiful. He is...he...oh dear, he's leaving. Wait, wait...I pull an arrow and draw back and let it fly. It splits and just hovers by him. It isn't hitting his heart. He isn't in love. No, he didn't see me. He can't see me. Not unless he wants to. And I can see in his heart that he doesn't. No, he does not want to see me. 

I follow them back and watch as the tall man leads the lovers away. Behind his back they hold hands as they walk toward the big square building. I follow and zero in on the intruder. He is very tall, broad shoulders and tiny waist, and is mostly bald. There is a sparse fringe of closely cut hair at the nape of his head, and all I want is to nuzzle my face in it. He leads them to their workplace and I don't see him again until the night. I wait outside the building, not daring to go in. Evil lives in that building and it always interferes with love. 

It is very late when he leaves the building, dark outside and almost everyone has already gone home. The two newest lovers have gone to dinner then back to her apartment to enjoy their first night together. He is determined to get home quickly, which he does and I follow his big black car to his tall glass building. He enters and throws the mail on a table, not even looking in it. He walks to the liquor cabinet and I watch as he pours a glass of scotch. I watch as he drinks glass after glass, then wobbles up to bed. 

Oh, he is so sad, I see it in his heart. He has no one to love him, and I want to be the one who loves him. Oh, gods, I've seen so many humans, watched them, learned their different cultures and how they react to one another. I've spent all my millennia trying to spread love, to make them stop being jealous and hating each other. But never have I found it for myself, not until now. I want him and I want him badly. I alight in his bedroom and watch him sleep fitfully. He is so very sad, but in his dreams I see he wants happiness. He just doesn't know with whom. He does hold a fondness for the man I've given to the blueeyed Dana, but he knows it isn't what he wants. But he wants something similar. He doesn't love the man himself, but I can see he wants a man. And it hurts him. And that, in turn, hurts me. 

* * *

**MT. OLYMPUS**

I sit and cry on the steps of the great hall. I cannot stand to be down there one more minute. It has been three Earth weeks since I have found my beloved and I cannot bear to watch him any longer. His name is Walter Skinner. He is an assistant director with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. He is a very important man. He is a married man. He is a very sad man. 

I watched him take a shower, washing his strong and powerful body. I watched as he briefly considered his genitals and then moved on to use the sisal strap on his back. He all but ignored his erection that morning and it quickly fled him. I could not bear it another moment. 

The tears just come on their own. I guess this is what it feels like when your heart breaks. I am lost in my own sorrow, my own misery. How do humans cope with these feelings, this hurt, this pain? I love him, I want to be with him, I want to make love with him, but he doesn't believe. He doesn't believe in love, and that means he can't believe in me. And I can never have him. What shall I do? 

I feel a hand on my arm and I look up. My father, Ares, is smiling down at me. I'm one of the few people he smiles at. I'm not like his other children. I create things, create love and families and babies, my favorite of all. I think he finds it a novelty. He notices I'm crying. 

"Eros, my son, what saddens you? Isn't it your season?" He sits beside me and pats my shoulder. He removes his war helmet to show me his face. He is very handsome, which is why I am, so I'm told. We have the same green eyes. My mother's eyes are heavenly blue. He's raven-haired, as well, like me. But his bulk and musculature eludes me, as I am delicately-boned like my mother. 

"I am in love, Father, but my love does not believe in me, so he cannot see me and I cannot have him," I tell him, then resume my sobs. He slides an arm around my shoulders and pulls me close. 

"Son, I cannot help you. I know that your arrows will not work on yourself, nor on a non-believer. But I think there is a way you may be able to have your love." His smile is so soft and gentle. My father never acts this way. He must really believe me. There isn't anything I can do for him that he would be falsely kind. 

"How shall I win him, Father? How can I make him believe?" I wipe at my cheeks, waiting for his wisdom. 

"You must speak to your mother. Only she can bring love to those who do not believe." His smile was a sad one, but I knew he was telling the truth. 

"How do I ask her? I have no idea how to do this. I should be able to do this myself." 

My father stands and said, "Who is this man whom you love?" I lead him to the reflecting pool to bring him the images of my love. I show him all of Walter's memories, the ones I was able to glean from his heart. His days in high school playing football and wrestling, his year in Vietnam, his days in college, his lovely wife, his family, his career. My father is impressed by his warrior nature. I believe he will be my champion to woo my mother into helping me. 

You see, my mother, Aphrodite, believes that people should find their own loves and make it happen. She does not like that I meddle in the lives of humans, but understands why I do it. She will find this irony delicious, even though she is not malicious. However, if Hera finds out, I am toast. She'll never let up. I must act quickly. 

"Father, please, where is Mother?" I want to get to her as soon as I can. 

"You just wait here. I'll take care of everything. Wash the tears from your eyes, my son. All will be well in the end. I promise you that." 

I nod and watch as he leaves. Taking the time to wash myself thoroughly and change my robe, I wait for my mother. She will no doubt come to find me after my father speaks with her. There was a person who sang a song once about the waiting being the hardest part. That man was a genius. 

Mother comes to me not long after Father has left and floats to me. Yes, she walks, but anyone who has ever seen a goddess move knows they barely put forth any effort to walk. Her robes flow about her to drape with the greatest amount of grace as she sits beside me. I love to watch my mother move. I take her proffered hand and she sits with me. Her kiss on my cheek is like the faintest flutter of a butterfly's wings. 

"My most handsome son, your father tells me you are having trouble with love. I find that...ironic." 

I bow my head and kiss her hand. "He does not believe in love, Mother. He cannot see me. And my arrows don't work on me. I thought you knew that. They have to find two equal targets. And he is married, but it brings him no joy. Would you help me?" 

"Your father has told me this man is very important to you. Tell me about him." 

I tell her the entire story, about seeing him collect the lovers I created and not embarrass them. I tell her about his memories. I tell her about his routines and his habits. And I tell her how he's given up on love and having a romance because he feels old and useless, that he ignores his wife, and she acts equally. I tell her how I want to be his lover, to be with him. "Mother, all my past lovers have believed in love. But he does not. He can't see me." 

She pauses and smiles sadly at me. "My dearest child, I cannot make him believe in love. I don't know what I can do for you. I can only bring love to those who seek it. Like you." 

I pull away from her, straining to hold my tears back. This is the worst I have ever felt in my life. If anything, I could always count on my mother for help. I understand her words, her limitations, but I don't have to like it. I feel her hand on my shoulder and I turn to her, letting my tears loose. She holds me and croons to me, stroking my hair and rocking me gently. I feel her kisses on the crown of my head. She is singing a song to me, one she would sing me to sleep with as a baby. Then I feel her pulling away. I look up at her. 

"I will help you. But remember, I cannot change his beliefs. I will not do anything to him." 

"Then what will you do?" I pray my hopefulness is showing in my eyes. 

"I will make you human. I will give you a past and a present, but you must steer your future. If this man is to be yours, you will have to make him yours." Her smile returned as she stood to leave me. 

"Wait, mother, how will I do that? How can I make him love me?" I was well and truly frightened at this prospect. 

"The way humans who don't believe in you do it. Romance him. Woo him. Sweep him off his feet. You can do it. After all, your _are_ my son." 

She floats away from me. I sit here contemplating my fate. I'm scared. I know it will be difficult. But I'm hopeful. I will succeed. 

* * *

**J. EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING**   
**LATE MORNING**

I'm giving Mulder a new partner. He doesn't want it, but I saw how well he worked with Scully, before they declared their feelings, and I think a new one will work well with him. This time, I'm giving him a believer. Not someone off-the-deep-end as Mulder, but someone more open than Scully was. I think I've found him. His name is Alex Krycek, top three percentile of his class at Columbia University, top two percentile of his class at Quantico, followed Mulder's studies in criminal profiling and paranormal psychology. He's worked hard, and found the Grissom case all on his own. 

I'm due to meet with him in five minutes so I have to piss before the meeting. Who knows when I'll have a chance later? As I walk out of my private lavatory, zipping my fly, he's standing there. Oh, God, he's a handsome one. The green ones always are. He's got a horrible off-the-rack suit on and way too much gel in his hair. Hopefully, Mulder will give the kid some advice. Then again, a junior agent's pay won't cover the suits Mulder buys with his inheritance money. Shoot, even I don't have as many Armani suits as he does. I like the cut of a Hugo Boss, anyway. 

He turns to me, smiling this huge, brilliant smile, as if it's its own light source. I dip my head and right my belt buckle. "Agent Krycek, I didn't hear you enter." 

"No, sir, I slipped in from the hall. Your assistant looks quite busy and I knew you were expecting me." He hands me his file and I look it over. As I settle into my chair, I look up at him. Is that his scent in the air? Suddenly, the room is filled with the scent of musk and roses. He just stood there, hands behind his back in parade rest position, smiling widely. His green eyes were flashing as he looked me over. If I didn't know any better, I'd think I was being checked out. But I think early in his career even this green agent knows sleeping your way into the bureau will not work. The climate for homosexuals is better than is used to be, but a superior officer is still a superior officer. 

"Agent Krycek, please have a seat," I tell him, and he looks as if he floats into the chair. Right away, I'm struck by this man. I've had a male lover, but I'm also married. Well, if you can call Sharon in our bed and me on the couch married. I had thought I loved her. I sigh and start our meeting. Krycek briefs me on the situation and I sign his 302. Then I send him off to find Mulder. I give him directions to Mulder's basement office. The case smacks of an X-File and I can't deny Mulder this investigation. I will not send him out alone, though. And this young agent seems to have a decent head on his shoulders. Hopefully, he will keep Mulder from going off the deep end. 

As the day wears on, I hear from this agent twice. First to tell me, through Kim of course, that Mulder has gone off to New York without him, and then to tell me that Mulder is acting incredibly abusive. Is this what I have to put up with? I sit in my chair and watch Kim fumble around at her desk. I need a new assistant. Who's that new one down in the bullpen, the one who looks like Agent Scully? Her name starts with an A, I know that much. I'll have to look into getting her up here. Every time I call down there, she's very helpful and organized. 

At the end of my day, I'm confident that I made the right choice in pairing Mulder with Krycek. Hopefully, their second day together would prove to be more of a cooperative effort than their first. 

* * *

**J. EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING**   
**TWO WEEKS LATER**

Mulder and Krycek, while clearing out more cases than most of the Violent Crimes division combined, are going to drive me to an early grave. I have no hair to pull out and I drink more than most men I know, so that's my last choice. When I think my ulcer can't get any worse, they walk into my office, Mulder accusing, Krycek explaining and appeasing. And they're followed by a weird scent. Mulder's cologne, Cool Water, is wafting in with him, and I know he wears it to impress Scully. She is here for a meeting, presenting forensic evidence. Under that is the scent I've come to associate with Krycek, full of musk and roses. It's very strange. I wonder if he does that on purpose. 

They remember that I'm also in the office with them and Mulder flops into the leather chair without an invitation. Krycek blushes and smiles gently, waiting for my invitation, which is an extended hand toward the chair he's standing before. He again drifts down slowly as if floating into the chair. This young man has the greatest muscle control I've ever seen. 

They begin briefing me on their latest case, a human fluke worm. My head hurts. As I reach up to rub my temple, Mulder gets the hint. He stands and states, "When I've finished the written report, sir, I'll have it for your desk. I'll just...go..." and he turns and leave. Krycek has not even stood from his chair. He looks at me with a cocked head. 

"Are you in pain, sir?" he asks in that smooth, singsong voice of his. I look up and his eyes, like chips of emerald, are concerned. 

"My migraine is flaring up. I'll be fine. I need to just close my eyes." I'm not even aware as he tells Kim not to disturb me and closes the door. I am aware of him closing my blinds and turning off the ambient lights in the room, making it very dark for me. He walks behind my chair and I feel his long, cool fingers on my head. And it doesn't make me jump, or nervous, even though I knew it was wrong on many levels. 

"Agent Krycek, you are out of line, here. Please, just leave before I need to take action." His hands stop massaging my temples, but he does not remove them. 

"Sir, I'm just trying to help you. Please, just relax and let me take care of you. There is nothing to fear from me." His voice soothes me and my raging brain. I let him work his magic on my head, and soon, I am pain free and more relaxed than after my last sexual encounter. I sit back in my chair and I hear him walk back around my desk. He is standing between me and the door, just looking at me. I turn my sated gaze on him. 

"Agent Krycek, thank you for your help, but in the future please don't do that again. It's inappropriate and if someone were to enter, we'd be subject to an OPC review. Thank you." 

I don't like dismissing him like that. He's crestfallen and it was written all over his face. I feel like a heel. If it were Cassidy, that's one thing. She's an assistant director. She and I could essentially get it on. But not a junior agent, female or male. Fraternizing with junior staff is a great way to destroy my career. And I'm not ready to give my career up for a new agent I just began supervising two weeks ago, no matter how handsome he is. It doesn't matter that I feel a rush of blood in my loins at the recognition of his peculiar scent. It is of no consequence that he is the most beautiful creature in the entire FBI, as far as I have seen. It has no bearing on me that the face that enters my head when I masturbate, now regularly, is his face. 

I decide to leave the office early today, citing my migraine as the cause and drive home. The more I think about it, the heavier my foot becomes in its urgency to make it to Georgetown. Sharon is home by this time, school letting out at three and she rarely stays after school. Hers is the most well behaved third grade class in all of the DC area, apparently. It's almost three thirty when I open the front door. 

"Walter? Is that you?" She walks out of the kitchen drying her hands. I drop my briefcase and go to her quickly, taking her in my arms and kissing her. She doesn't protest as she has so many times before. I carry her to the bedroom and before I know it, we're making love like when we had first met. She is as eager as I am, but I keep burying my face in her neck, hoping to erase the blue eyes before me, trying to conjure the mischievous green ones I sought. I take a deep breath to calm my nerves, but the lung full of Anais Anais only proves to me that I am not with the man that smells of musk and roses, and I wilt midstroke. Sharon notices immediately and sits up from the bed. 

We both dress in silence, but as I hang my suit, having changed to more comfortable jeans and a button down shirt, she proceeds to pack a bag. 

"Sharon, what are you doing? You're leaving?" I know I shouldn't sound as stunned as I do, but this is surprising. I always thought she would ask me to leave. I was almost waiting for it. 

She turns to me and smiles softly. "Who is he?" 

This time I'm truly shocked. "What the hell you are talking about? There's no one else, male or female. I have been completely faithful to you." 

"In action, I have no doubt you have. I wouldn't expect any less from you. You are the most faithful and trustworthy man I have ever known in my life. But I know that in your heart, I'm not the person you love. I have a feeling it's a man. And I have the feeling it's recent." 

"Even if it were true, how would you know?" I'm nervous and hurt at the same time. 

She lets out a tiny laugh. "You've been masturbating. I hear you. I stand by the door to listen to you shower, if you can believe that. I just wanted to still be close to you. Now I see that it's no use. I'll miss you. And I love you." 

I put my arms around her and hug her tightly. She hugs me back and we kiss again. This time it's a gentle kiss of goodbye and good luck. I will not contest the divorce, and I will give her everything she wants. Watching her pack her things, I can barely keep my tears back. I walk her to her car, carrying her bags and I put them in the trunk for her. I tell her I will have Jane call her in the morning to find out her terms so I can sign the dissolution. She smiles. Then she drives away. 

I walk slowly back into the house and straight to the scotch. I sit and write out lists of things I will need to do, like finding another apartment, selling the house and separating the possessions. It can be remarkably simple. 

As I descend into my fog of numbness, I lay on the couch, staring at my wedding picture hanging on the wall in the living room. We were so in love once upon a time. Or we looked it. Did I really love her? Had I ever really loved anyone? With those thoughts in my head, I drift off to sleep. 

* * *

**J. EDGAR HOOVER BUILDING**   
**BASEMENT OFFICE**

I've been pursuing my love for over a month now, working with Fox William Mulder. I am at my end. I cannot do this work any longer. I have been witness to some of the most horrific crimes humans can perpetrate on each other and I do not want to do this for another moment. Ghosts attacking workers in a convalescent home. A man who believes he was abducted by aliens and to prove his point takes a group of office workers hostage. There were more, but my head is reeling with the sheer anger of it all. And at night, when I'm not working, I try to get out to bring lovers together. I'm not very happy. 

Mulder, as he wants me to call him, is finishing our report. He has a date with his fiance tonight. I'm so glad that Agent Scully is as in love with him as he is with her. An arrow well shot. Alas, my true love has not been about for the last week. He has been taking care of "personal business" as per his new assistant. She is a perky redhead who reminds me of Agent Scully, though Arlene is dating the young redheaded man from the forensics lab. 

So we go about our investigations and our work. Today, I was forced to shoot a man I thought was going to shoot Mulder. He had altered my human senses and I thought he was holding a gun. I've never taken a life before. I thought I would be sick right there. I want my mother. My father would be proud of me. 

Mulder was quiet on our drive back to Washington and let me stay quiet. He's finished the report and hands it to me to review, in case I should add something. I tell him I will read it later. Then he is there, at the door of our office. "I came to see if you gentlemen were alright after the case you had this morning." 

I look up at Walter and I know my smile is weak. I don't want him to think I'm not up to my job. So long as I can continue to work for him, I will endure what I must, so that I may be near him. But it ain't easy! 

Oh, gods, I'm talking like them. I sigh and say, "I'm fine, sir, thank you." 

"Mulder, you going out tonight? Or can I buy you a beer?" He pulls himself to his full height and folds his arms over his considerable chest. I fall deeper in love in that moment and I can feel the blush on my cheeks. 

"Scully and I are hitting the town, sir. I wish I could join you. But get ol' Krycek out of here. He looked like he was gonna bust out into tears today. Should we start calling you Kry-baby?" He laughs at me, but I know it's just good-natured joking from a friend. He pats my shoulder and says, "Walter, get him sloshed. Gimme the report in the morning." 

He slings his jacket onto his body and slips out of the room. Walter still stands in the doorway looking at me. I smirk sadly at him. 

"Come on, Krycek, let's go get a beer and talk. I know this is your first shooting. Then, Monday, you see the counselor. Tonight, we counsel ourselves." 

This is it! This is my chance. Tonight, I will ply my love with wine and song and I will get him to see me as more than just a junior agent who needs his supervision more than anything. I must keep my face calm and not giggle. 

I gather my belongings and follow him to the garage to his car. He's already stashed his briefcase in the back, along with his trench coat. He gets in to drive and I get in the passenger side. My car is at my apartment since I took public transportation to the office, so I let him know he'll have to take me home. 

"That's OK, I can do that. You live in Georgetown not too far from where my house...um, I know the neighborhood well." 

He stops there, and continues to the small pub close to my apartment. He parks on the street and I get out, following him into the pub. He leads me to the back and we sit in a booth. The place isn't very crowded. I guess everyone is out dancing in the clubs. He orders beer for us in a pitcher and I wait patiently. I don't really like the stuff, preferring wine, but if this is how my love wants to intoxicate me, I will drink blood if he chooses. 

The waitress brings a large pitcher and he pours my mug. I can barely contain my enthusiasm to pick it up. I can see my hand trembling, as can he. He puts his hand on my shoulder and says, "Krycek, relax. The case is over. The first one is the toughest. I'm here to talk. But let's lubricate a little first." 

He raises his mug and says, "To surviving a tough case." I bring my mug to his and we both take healthy swigs of our drinks. He smiles at me as I wince a bit. 

"Not used to drinking, Alex?" This is first time he's used my first name. 

I smile at him and say, "No, sir, not really. I drink wine, but not beer. But I like it." 

We drain the mugs in silence, then he fills them again. I take another healthy gulp and say, "I've never killed anyone before. It was...chilling. But I was thankful to save Mulder's life. At least, I thought I saved his life." 

Walter nods. "It's OK, Alex. You're cleared. You just need to understand, Cole wanted to go, according to Mulder. He hadn't slept in a quarter of a century. That's unheard of. You may have given him what he wanted. Don't be so upset about it." 

I nod with a tight smile. "You're right, sir. Sorry, this is all new to me." 

"Call me Walter when we're not in the office. We're on our own time so we can be friends. Hey, the ball game is starting. You like the Orioles this year?" 

I turn towards the big screen that take up a wall in the bar as the players walk onto the field. I'm trying to learn about these games they played, like the Olympics, but it's getting confusing to me. But I can play along. 

"Yes, I like them fine, s...um, Walter." I smile nervously. He laughs. 

"You know nothing about baseball, do you?" 

I duck my head. This must be some type of omen. This was all a mistake and I should never have come here. "No, Walter, I know nothing about the game. I don't know much about American sports. I tend to like other types of skills competitions, things like the Olympics. These televised events are too much for me to take in all at once." 

"You involved in any sports in school? Your jacket is rather light on extra curricular activities." I know he means my personnel file. 

"I've always liked wrestling. Not the entertainment kind that is so prevalent here, but the true sport. Two fighting for superiority, the way the gods intended." I don't mean to get the wistful look in my eyes, but I can see him trying to make out my meaning. 

"You mean, Greco-Roman style? I lettered in that in high school, you know. That and football. How interesting." 

I know he wrestled. It is also true that I always liked watching that best. He turns back to the game a few moments and we continue to drink. He explains much of the game to me, including the curious "infield fly rule" which is demonstrated while we watched. As the sun set, casting a golden hue through the pub, I watch my love as he pours us both another mug each of beer. I drank this while watching him watch the television. He smiles and cheers with the rest of the patrons when something apparently good happens. 

He turns to me and sees me. I know there is a wistful look on my face, which I quickly remove. It's too late. He saw me staring at him. I can feel my body becoming more intoxicated the longer I sit there. He turns back to the TV and we share another pitcher of beer. I know I have had a little more than I should and I giggle a bit. He turns to me, and I know he sees the sleepy look on my face. 

"Well, Alex, I think it's time I took you home," he says as he stands. He tips a little and says, "Shit, I'm no good to drive. Damn, I guess we'd better get a cab. Where do you live?" 

I look up into his handsome face and say, "Oh, about three streets from here. We can walk there. Feel free to stay." 

I will have him in my home. I must say that my mother thought of everything. When she put me here, I had all of the human comforts I needed, and all the knowledge to handle them. She is truly amazing. I must make this evening count. 

We wobble, trying to keep each other upright toward my apartment and we almost don't make it up the two flights to the third floor. I love this brownstone, and I like the top floor as well. But I can show him everything tomorrow. 

We stumble inside and I close the door, leaning heavily on it. He's standing in the room looking at my meager furnishings. It's not very opulent. My mother thought I should be humble. She did not have to be so literal. He nodded around and said, "Well, the building is nice, but just like I expected, bachelor furniture. I had a place like this before I married Sharon. That was...1978...damn! Oh, I feel old!" 

He walks to the place where my music is held and smiles at my choices. I do like music and the eclectic selection pleases him. I'm very pleased. "Hey, you got the Muddy Waters Anthology! That's really cool." 

He turns to me with a genuine smile on his face. All I can return is pure worship. I stay in place against the door. His smile turns to something else, something I haven't seen on his face, but that of others: lust. He asks, "Can I hang my coat up?" I nod and indicate the coat rack beside me. 

The evens that follow still cause my belly to clutch, my pulse to race and my breath to quicken. He removes his trench coat and walks toward me. Hanging it is the last thing I see before he comes to stand before me. I close my eyes and I can feel his breath on my face. His lips on mine are like coming home. I stand straight, raising my arms to wind around his neck and we are kissing and holding each other. He is holding me. My dearest love is holding me in his arms, gently squeezing my body as he kisses me, plunders my mouth with his tongue, tastes me thoroughly. No priestess or priest of my temples have ever pleased me with kisses the way my beloved does. 

A hand makes its way to my face to stroke my cheek and he pulls back. I open my eyes and see him smiling. "Alex, I have been thinking about you since the day you cured my headache. I'd like to be with you." 

I know there is a stunned expression on my face. "But...aren't you...married? Your wife..." 

"We're divorcing. I've moved, we're selling the house, the papers will be ready in two weeks. She has moved on. She urges me to do so as well. I'd like to...with you." 

His eyes are bright, with either alcohol or passion, and at this moment, I don't care. His thumb is gently sliding over my lower lip and my tongue touches it as if it had a mind of it's own. He smiles again and I say, "Would you like me to show you my bedroom?" I kiss his thumb and pull away. 

He follows me to my bedroom, with its plain wood furniture and Queen sized bed. He smiles as he sits on the bed, bouncing a little on it. "Firm, I like that. Come here." 

I walk to stand before him. He spreads his legs and pulls me to stand in the middle. Oh, Gods, he smells incredible, even the smoke and beer from the pub are like an intoxicating perfume to me. I am so in love with this man, he could smell of corpses and I would love it. His hands come up and pull open my jacket. "Undress for me." It isn't a command, but a gentle request. I am eager to comply. 

Each layer of clothing leaves my body and I soon stand before him as I feel most comfortable, completely bare. A tentative hand, shaking minutely, reaches out and is gently pressed flat on my belly. My body, I must admit, my mother made from an image of the most beautiful man she had seen, which is not my father. I wear Apollo's sleek and muscular form. Each of my limbs, while not bulky and grotesque, are well-shaped and strong. There is little hair but a sprinkling on my chest and a line that leads from my navel to the thatch that cradles my cock, which is rising as the hand explores each muscle of my chest and shoulders. His other hand joins him as he touches my body, sliding his hands down my flanks and back to cup my buttocks firmly. 

"You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen," he gasps to me. I am so pleased I know my choked laugh sounds like a sob. He smiles as I fight to keep the tears in my eyes. "Sit in my lap, Alex." 

I do as he says and we begin kissing again. The jacket is slipped from his shoulders and he allows me to remove his tie as well. He pulls back and unbuttons his own shirt, sliding it down his arms. Leaning back, I give him room to pull off his t-shirt and his chest is revealed to me. The floor is hard under my knees as I crash down in front of him. His chest is wide, muscular and covered in thick curly hair. 

Like a newborn babe, I seek a nipple to suck and nip at. He gasps, and his hands come up to my head to hold me to him. My lips and tongue explore all of his chest and neck, tasting him, marking him where his shirt will hide the bites and bruises, memorizing him with my mouth. If this is to be my only chance, I want to make the most of it. I make my way down and push him by his shoulders to sit back. 

"Alex, you don't have to..." 

"I want to, Walter. Please, let me taste you," I beg. He nods. 

I unbuckle his belt and fight with the button on his suit pants. His erection impedes my unzipping him, so I leave him to do that him as I remove his shoes and socks. He lets his pants and underwear slide down, which I remove all the way. I sit back on my calves as I look up his thick, muscular, beautiful body. His proud cock stands up from a thick tangle of black fur. It's thick on his thighs, but gets thinner down his legs. He is a god to me. I rise up and start by kissing the head of his cock. It is leaking and I lap at the fluid, enjoying each taste. He is letting little painful groans out, as if I'm tending a wound. I cover the head of him and begin sucking him as I have been sucked in the past. He is the first man I have ever taken orally and I must remember to do to him as I like done to me. The reactions I get to tonguing the head and sliding down the underside are enthusiastic and pleased. 

Before I have a chance to take him deeply in my throat a third time, he pulls me up by the shoulders and says, "That's enough, Alex. Time to move to the bed." He slides up my bed and lies back against the pillows. With one leg bent up and his arm curled around his head, he is the most delicious-looking morsel I've ever seen. I climb up and sit looking at him just a moment. He is amazing. I crawl to him and let his arms come about me to hold me as we commence kissing and playing dueling tongues. 

I feel the hand stroking my cock and I know I want to feel him in me. I want to be filled completely by the massive cock I had down my throat. I sit up and push him back. My mother thought of everything. I reach into the drawer of the night table and pull out a bottle of liquid lubricant. He smiles. 

"My last physical was clean, as was yours. So forget the condom and get on my dick!" He isn't ordering me but enticing me. I lube him as quickly as I can and slide down on him, feeling my ass open to him. I'm afraid he'll change his mind. But no, he holds my waist as I move on him. I need him to take me, claim me, to let me know I belong to him, then I can make him love me. 

"Walter, lay me down and take me," I say, moving off of his body. I lay back on the bed, where he was a moment ago as he moves between my legs. He takes my calves and hoists my legs up, hooking under my knees. The look of concentration on his face is priceless as he positions himself at my hole and slides home. I feel the burn as his big cock head stretches me again, and I cry out to him, "Yes, like that!" 

He smiles and leans down on me to kiss me. I am bent in half, his cock up my ass and I am loving every minute of it. He begins moving in me, stroking inside, quickly finding my prostate to nudge it and jolt me through with lightning. The hair on his chest tickles the back of my thighs. 

The bed rocks as we move together. He's let my legs go so I move and thrust up to meet him. I snatch kisses when I can, when he allows me, or I lick away a line of sweat. We're both soaked with sweat, using it to slide against each other. He kisses me deeply again. "Alex, your ass is so tight. This feels incredible!" 

I smile and grab him around his neck again. He lays fully on me and just thrusts his hips. The friction on my own cock is making me crazy. Oh, gods, I'm going to come soon, and I want to come for him. I whine and cry out to him, and feel the rush, the flow, the lightning strike through me, shooting me up to him, arching my body into him. My come spits out between our bodies, making us sticky. 

"Oh, God, Alex, fuck, I'm coming..." and I feel him erupt inside me. His body writhes on me and he jerks a few times. He collapses on my chest, gasping and heaving for breath. Then he starts giggling. The giggles become full out laughs and soon we are both laughing at the tops of our lungs. He turns his head to me and we kiss. 

"Alex, that was amazing. You must have lightning in your ass or something." His arms tightened on me. We kiss again. 

"Thank you, Walter. I liked that. A lot. We can do it again, can't we?" I try to look sweet and hopeful. 

"Yes, Alex, we can. We need to keep this out of the office, since I'm your superior. But we can definitely do it again. We can do it a lot. Let's get cleaned up and get to bed." 

Stumbling and fumbling in the bathroom, we make it back to bed and slide under the covers. I curl up on his chest, peppering it liberally with kisses. He laughs and presses a kiss into my hair. His heart beat lulls me to sleep. 

* * *

**GEORGETOWN**   
**ALEX KRYCEK'S APARTMENT**   
**NEXT MORNING**

I awaken later than normal, and I know because the sun is high in the morning sky. I'm not in my bed. And there's a warm body on me. It takes me a moment to realize where I am and I smile, tightening my arms around Alex's body. He sighs and the soft smile on his face grows minutely. He is beautiful. 

As I look at him carefully, I notice his face has no wrinkles, even in a smile. And his bow mouth still looks a little swollen from my brutal kisses. I could swear I wanted to eat his mouth off of his head. The more I look at him, the more he seems angelic to me. He reminds me of a cherub. I like him very much. And I want him to know that. 

That morning begins like many of our mornings begin. We make love again, shower, one of us goes out for breakfast while the other waits, depending on whose apartment we're in. I moved into a luxury condo in the Viva Tower in Crystal City, very close to him, but not too close. We enjoy our time together, exercising, running, I take him to his first ballgame. He takes me all through the Smithsonian and doesn't seem the least bit bored. Neither did I. 

We've become bold lovers, christening each surface of each other's house with lube and semen. Every wall in both apartments has had our bodies bumping against it. I think I am falling in love with this man. 

The other night, I arrive at his apartment and there is nothing but candle light in the room. He is completely naked, laying on the couch with a book over his cock. "Sit, Walter." I do. He raises the book and begins reading a love poem to me. There are glasses of champagne poured and I drink one. I listen to his lilting voice for an hour while I remove my clothing, eat some of the caviar he has chilling, then the strawberries he's laid out. When he gets about halfway through the book, I grab it, toss it across the room, then carry him to his bed to make love. He tells me dirty limericks until I come. 

I'm in love. I will tell him tonight and see where this takes us. But I have a sneaky suspicion he feels the same way. I don't know what we'll do from here, move into a place together, how to handle it. I must tell him though. 

That night, after we make love, I lay beside his prone body. He is on his back, coming back to me, I on my side, one arm propping me up. My free hand is tracing each plane of his face, soothing the wrinkle between his eyes. "I love you, Alex. I wanted to tell you that." 

He doesn't move for a moment. Then the smiles splits his face and he turns into me. His face is buried in my chest and I feel him sobbing. I move backward and his face is wet with tears. "Alex, I hope this is good." 

"Oh, it is, Walter, it is! I love you so very much. I can't wait to...um...oh, gods..." His face falls and he collapses back on the bed. His hands come to his face and I see him try to take a deep breath. 

"What, Alex, tell me, what's wrong?" 

After another deep breath, he says, "Walter, I am not Alex Krycek. I saw you one day, when Fox and Dana were kissing in the park under the cherry blossoms." 

"You saw me? And...wait...I don't..." 

He sits up and I can see him begin to glow. His face is changing. The man I know as Alex is disappearing and someone else is sitting there. Someone so beautiful, I almost can't look at him. I try my hardest to remain calm. "Who...who are you?" 

"I am Eros, son of Aphrodite, God of Love. I fell in love, but could not make you love me. My mother allowed me to be human for you to see me, so I could woo you." 

"And...and...what now?" 

He sighs. "You must accept me as I truly am, or I must leave. I can have a human form when I am with you, and I will look like Alex. I want to be Alex with you, but when I am not, I must be Eros and bring love to humans. I must shoot them with my arrows and make them love each other. Is...can you understand that?" 

I look away. He becomes Alex again, but I just can't stay there. A god? And honest to goodness Greek god. Oh shit. 

I can't get my clothes on fast enough to get out of there. Oh shit, fuck...goddam it all to hell. What the hell am I going to do? I fell in love with a Greek god. There's only one man who can make any sense of this. I dial Mulder's cell on mine as I drive toward his apartment in Alexandria. 

* * *

**MT. OLYMPUS**   
**DAYS LATER**

I sit on the steps of the temple, not even aware that tears are sliding down my face. I know my mother sits beside me since I smell the roses. Her hands are comforting in my hair. "My son, you cannot remain in this state. You must go back. He is searching for you." 

"He does not love me, Mother. You witnessed his flight. He abhors me." 

"My son, he beseeched me to bring you back to him. He is in my temple, in Athens. Go to him." 

I look into her blue eyes. "Athens? Mother, he came for me here? He is here?" 

I barely wait to get to him. I fly swifter than the wind to my mother's temple and see him there, sitting on a bench, watching the people pray. I take the form of Alex and walk to him. "Walter, I am here." 

Him jumping from the bench to run to me warms the heart I had let freeze over. He kisses me hungrily, devouring my mouth. "Oh, my love, Alex, my sweet lover, how I missed you. I spoke with Mulder. And he knew about us. He said 'Does it matter what or who he is as long as you love him?' And he's right. I love you and can share you, or wait for you, or whatever. As long as I can be with you. I love you, Alex, very, very much." 

We kiss again and retire to his hotel room to reunite. When we are again catching our breaths, his big body covering mine, making me feel loved and claimed, he asks, "How will this work?" 

I shrug. "I don't know. But we'll do the best we can, won't we?" 

"Yes, we will. I love you, Alex." 

"I love you, Walter." 

Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! 

The End  
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